


New Skin

by astudyinperiwinkle



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, Jötunn Loki, M/M, waxing poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinperiwinkle/pseuds/astudyinperiwinkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Loki lets his guard down and Steve gets the (literal) cold shoulder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Skin

It wasn’t the blue of a glacial fissure leading down into unknown depths. It was the blue of an evening sky in the last moments before the fading echo of the day relented to the yet unheard symphony of a fresh night, rich and smooth in its tone. Dark lines swirled and raced each other in pathways that led the eye on its journey from one remarkable piece of fleshly landscape to the next. I reached out to feel this new skin hugging the frame I knew so well and hesitated, more nervous that he didn’t move away. After all, his allowing me to bear witness to this form was unprecedented. It would be all too easy to shatter such an important moment with impulsive eagerness.

In the pause, my fingers hovering just above the foreign anatomy, I could feel the distinct lack of heat around him. It wasn’t as if coldness poured from the body so composed as to seem a statue watching me absorb every inch of its exquisite detail, but it was definitely not warmth. The final barrier between us broke in silence as his shoulder became the territory my hand traversed blindly and without aim or destination. The chill of him was that of someone just come in from the bracing air of a January day, where sunshine meant little and each exhaled breath was a miniature cloud rolling endlessly away. Anticipation and wonderment filled me.

Eyes like latent magma, present but inactive under a stoic mountain of granite composure, watched me, gauged each minute reaction as my other hand encircled a toned arm and ran along the tangible markings all the way down the fine-boned wrist to the lax fingers with blackened nails.

“This is the real you?”

“Real is a relative term. Innate would suit better.”

“Whatever term you want to use, you’re stunning.”

Cerulean lips tugged to one side in a guarded smirk. I knew better than to mistake it for confidence. “Are you saying you’re stunned?”

“I am.”

Icy arms pushed me back abruptly. An equally cold thigh wedged up between my legs and in a rush my lungs expelled what air they had from the shock of temperature difference suddenly surrounding me. Each part of him pressed down, left no quarter, and found every available purchase to get me crammed against the bed until I felt I would sink into the mattress, entombed by a frigid body. Cool breath swept down the side of my face and goose-bumps prickled my skin.

“Not yet you’re not. But I swear to you, Steve, that you will be before the night is over.”


End file.
